


I Will Catch You When You Feel Like Letting Go

by Bellarke_Stories



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Hurt Bellamy, Worried Clarke, prompt, pure angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 12:49:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8014633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellarke_Stories/pseuds/Bellarke_Stories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What?” Clarke asks, “Did you even stop to think what how the fuel could react with the rain?” </p>
<p>Bellamy doesn’t say anything and Clarke considers it a win. A moment later he turns to stare at the table again. </p>
<p>“You could have gotten yourself really hurt, Bellamy.” Clarke says softly wanting to reach for him but holding herself instead, cupping her elbows and staring at his back. </p>
<p>“And?” Bellamy only says, voice emotionless with a low tone. </p>
<p>“And?” Clarke asks, anger building inside her again</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Catch You When You Feel Like Letting Go

**Author's Note:**

> Blame @bellamyblake from tumblr for this... 
> 
> Title take from 'Alone' by Red.

Bellamy is the first to feel it. The burning on his arm. He turns his gaze to it, curious to see what burned him but he only sees something black, like a tear drop, rolling down his arm, leaving a red mark behind it.

“What the hell?” he whispers to himself when another drop lands on his shoulder. He turns to look at Clarke for answers. She is looking at the grey sky between the tress, her palm above her eyes and squinting against the washed out sunlight.

“What is this?” Bellamy asks, looking up to the rolling clouds as well.                                                                                            

“Black rain.” Clarke explains and turns to stare at Bellamy, “The first thing that will come with the end of the world.” She swallows hard. “That’s what ALIE told me.”

Bellamy holds her gaze. _The end of the world,_ he thinks as rain drops start to fall more quickly now. He shakes his head of his thoughts and fears, dropping his backpack on the ground and burrying his hand in it, fishing for something.  

Clarke is crouching next to him with two steps, “What are you doing? We need-” she’s cut off by Bellamy’s hand bringing his jacket in front of her face.

“Take it.” he says in a way that kind of sounds like an order.

The truth is that they are both too good at hiding the pain, and the black drops rolling from the sky are singing against their skin like acid, so Clarke takes the jacket from Bellamy’s hand.

“You’re really carrying your jacket around even though the world is basically in melt down mode?” she asks as she pushes her own backpack off her shoulder, “I mean, if I could, I would walk around shirtless with all the heat.” she continues and puts on the jacket.

Bellamy doesn’t say anything and Clarke reaches for her backpack again when she realizes Bellamy is closing his and isn’t wearing a jacket.

“Hey, what about you?” she asks concerned, “Don’t you have another… something to cover your-”

“I’m fine.” he stops her and lifts his backpack above his head, “Let’s go. I know there’s an underground bunker somewhere behind that hill.” he nods his head towards the small mountain behind Clarke.

Clarke doesn’t press the subject, mostly because she knows the more they stay uncovered, the more burns Bellamy will have on his body. The more scars. She wouldn’t make any more of those. So they start jogging with Bellamy leading the way while the rain becomes heavier.

* * *

The small room lights up when Bellamy opens the trapdoor. First he drops his backpack and then he motions for Clarke to go first. She doesn’t argue, dropping her own backpack inside so she can fit in the small opening, and turns around and starts climbing the stairs down. She jumps the last two steps, landing next to the backpacks. Quickly she leans down and pushes them to the side while Bellamy stops halfway down the ladder and clicks the trapdoor closed.

They’re surrounded with darkness and for a moment they don’t say or do anything. Their heavy breathing is the only sound filling the room as they try to catch their breath.

Clarke is about to say something when she hears Bellamy moving and a moment later, she hears him unzip one of their backpack. She turns her head towards the rustling of the backpack contents and half a minute later, Bellamy clicks a flashlight on, filling most of the underground room with light.

“Better” he comments and stands up, pointing the light towards Clarke’s feet- more specifically her burnt through shoes. Little holes dotted the canvas tops, which unlike Bellamy’s leather boots, were totally vulnerable to acid rain. “You okay?”

Clarke wants to glare at him but she holds herself back, taking off the jacket because it’s so hot in the room. “I wasn’t the one with bare arms running through a forest while it was raining black acid rain.” she says instead, obviously angry at him for not covering himself properly.

Bellamy senses the anger in Clarke’s tone but he chooses to ignore it, “I’ve had worst.” he murmurs in answer and turns the dim beam of light towards what looks like a table on the right. He lights up every part of the room, seeing what there is that they can use. The bunker was bigger than Clarke first thought, though still small, and besides the table a dusty bed, a couch and a dresser are the only other pieces of furniture are in the room.

Clarke reaches for her backpack instead, searching for her med kit. She sees the couch from the corner of her eye so when Bellamy finished looking around and placed the flashlight on the table, he turns to her. “So we either gonna get burnt from the sun or the rain.” he points out with sarcasm and Clarke glances at him.

“Funny.” she sneers unamused and stands up, “Now come here so I can see your arms.” she nods towards the couch.

To her surprise, Bellamy doesn’t fights her like he usually does, and he slowly makes his way to the couch. Clarke examines his burnt skin, little lines and dots of red irritated skin marring his biceps but there was nothing too bad. There wasn’t much Clarke could do for acid burns, but she did apply a bit of herbal salve to one of the worse ones. Bellamy lets her clean and soothe his burns and once she is finished, to his surprise, she asks him to do the same for the few of hers.

It feels weird, for both of them, to be open, to let the other take care of them. They usually argue for at least five minutes who will get treated first, Bellamy losses all the time because _‘You have to see what I’m doing first so you can do it too.’_ is usually a winning argument. That said, letting the other help without an argument is new. They both ignore the fact, ignore the change. They’re pretty good at that.

Once Bellamy is finished too, Clarke gathers her things again and tucks them back into her backpack.

“Get some rest.” Bellamy says from behind her, “We don’t know how long the storm will last.”

Clarke nods, “Not that I’m tired, but I could use some sleep.”

“Then sleep.” Bellamy smiles even though he knows Clarke can’t see him and turns his body to the side, slowly sliding down to lay on the couch.

“Are you coming?” she asks only to turn around and find him laying there on the other end of the bunker, “You’re not sleeping on couch, are you?” he knows it’s not a question from the way she is staring at him, “The bed is large enough for both of us.”

“I’ll be fine-”

“Bellamy.” she says his name quietly, almost a whisper. She is tired of this, tired of being the only one taking care of Bellamy Blake. Bellamy Blake needs to start taking care of his damn self. And that tone gets to him because a moment later, he stands up and walks towards her.

Clarke sits on the edge of the bed, bending down to untie her running shoes and kick them off. Bellamy follows her and once they are out of their shoes Bellamy glances at Clarke from the corner of his eyes.

“Take the inside.” he says, nodding to the bed behind them.

“I don’t like the wall.” Clarke argues. Having the cold stone against her body would  remind her too clearly of the beds in the Ark’s prison but she doesn’t say it out loud.

“I don’t like it either.” Bellamy answers, “Get on that side and I’ll give you more than half of the bed.”

“But I don’t-”

“Fine!” Bellamy cuts her of and pushes himself up, making his way back to the couch again.

Clarke grabs his wrist, stopping him for getting any farther away, “Okay.” she says and Bellamy turns to her, “Okay, I’ll take the inside.”

She let go of his wrist and pulls her legs up the bed, pushing herself towards the wall without saying anything else. She lay down and as soon as her head fall on the pillow, she can already feel the tiredness and sleep take over. She feels the mattress shift next to her as Bellamy lay down next to her.

They stay in silence for a long time and even though Clarke’s body wants to fall asleep, her mind can’t stop thinking. “Bellamy?” she whispers ten minutes after lying down on bed.

“Yes?” he answers a moment later, bringing one hand under his head but not taking his eyes from the ceiling.

“What are we going to do about the fuel?” she asks then, carefully choosing her words, “Raven needs it to go on with whatever her plan is. She needs it soon.”

“We won’t be any good to her if the rain burns us to the bone.” Bellamy says instead, turning his head to face her, “We’ll wait for the rain to stop and then set out to where Diana’s ship crashed.”

“Yeah but she needs it-”

“Clarke.” Bellamy stops her, “We don’t have a choice here.”

Clarke doesn’t say anything for a while, letting Bellamy’s words to sink in and then she lets a long breath out, “We don’t have a lot of time either.”

At her comment, Bellamy swallows, because time is all he needs and time is the one thing he won’t get. _The world is ending, we don’t have time to waste,_ he thinks.

Clarke murmurs her good night even though it can’t be night yet and turns her back on him, facing the wall with one hand under the pillow and the other on her side.

Bellamy let himself study her soon-to-be-asleep body. So small, so peaceful, so… Clarke. He takes a deep breath, turning his eyes back to the ceiling, lost in his thoughts. _Our people need it_ , _our people need me,_ he thinks before deciding to do something _very_ stupid. Something that Clarke won’t be happy about at all.

* * *

When Clarke opens her eyes, it feels different. The room is not as light as it was before they fell asleep and it is cold too. Then next thing she realizes is a light weight on her shoulder and back. Confused, she turns on her back, flat on the bed, only to recognize that weight as Bellamy’s jacket. He probably covered her at some point because the room was getting cold.

She turns her head to Bellamy’s side, to check if he is still sleeping but to her surprise, she finds the bed empty. Sitting up, she searches the room, looking for him in the dark corners.

“Bellamy?” she calls, her heart beating faster with every second that passes without an answer, “Bellamy? Where are you?”

_Where the hell is he?_ she asks herself and pushes herself off the bed. She puts on the shoes and quickly grabs the flashlight from the table and fumbles a little bit. This flashlight is smaller she realizes, gripping the familiar handle. It’s smaller because it’s _her_ flashlight. She whips around, searching for the backpacks on the floor where they left them and only finds one on a chair.

_Shit. He went alone,_ Clarke realizes and quickly runs to the ladder. Climbing up enough to reach for the handle, Clarke pushes upwards the trap door and as soon as it opens, she feels a rain drop land on her cheek. And it burns.

Closing the trapdoor again, she jumps down a few steps and reaches for her backpack. “What do I need, what do I need.” she asks herself again and again. By now panic has set in, because Bellamy is in trouble, he’s in _pain_ , and she doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t know if she can help. _What do I need what do I need what do I nee-_

_The map,_ she remembers and buries her hand in her backpack, searching for the paper. She wastes two whole minutes trying to find it and after she shakes out everything from her backpack and even then doesn’t find it she goes into survival mode. She quickly puts the things she’ll likely need inside the pack again, like her med kit, water and food and closes it, leaving the rest on the floor.

_The jacket,_ she reminds herself next, jumping of the bed to grab Bellamy’s jacket and quickly puts it on.

_But if his jacket is here, then what is he wearing?_ she asks herself and she knows its an answer she really doesn’t like. Snapping the hood up as she shoves her arms through the sleeves she searches for some kind of wardrobe or closet. She finds one next to the table and runs to it. Opening it, she finds a few clothes. Old and with holes. Pushing them to the side or throwing them on the floor next to her, she finds a long sleeve shirt, a little bit small for Bellamy but she doesn’t really care.

She swings her backpack around again, quickly opens it and pushes the shirt inside. She closes the backpack again and with force she throws it over her shoulders. Clicking the clip in front of her close, she turns around, grabs her flashlight and heads for the ladder. Climbing the steps two by two when she reaches the trapdoor and pushes it open, she realizes she can’t fit through the hole with the backpack on. Cursing the living and the dead, she takes off her backpack again with one hand while with the other holds herself from falling back down and her flashlight. Once free from her backpack, she throws it up and out of the hole and quickly climbs the rest of the ladder.

She doesn’t even bother to close the trapdoor again. She grabs her backpack, throws it on her shoulders and starts running through the rain towards where she thinks it’s the crushed ship.

Clarke hadn’t memorized the path they would take, but she remembered these woods from her days at the dropship, remembered some of the course they mapped, and could fill in a lot of the gaps.

She doesn’t realize immediately that it’s getting dark but that explains why it is so cold. Suddenly Clarke realizes why he carries around a jacket. _Smart ass,_ she let herself smile for a moment before almost losing her footing on a slippery rock.

Clarke doesn’t really know if she is going the right way or for how long she’s been running but when she hears boots hitting the muddy forest floor, she stops dead. Making sure she wasn’t imagining it, she listens closely for more footfalls.

Her first instinct is to reach for her gun, strapped at her hip, but as soon as she feels her palm hugging her leggings, she realizes she left her gun on the couch, where she treated Bellamy. Cursing again, she search around for anything that could help her defend herself while the sound of boots came closer.

Luckily, her eyes land on a long and think stick some feet in front of her. She runs to it and kneels down to grab as soon as two boots appear in front of her.

She snaps her head up, ready to hit whoever was there when she meets his brown eyes.

For a moment the shock takes over her body and she freezes there, looking at him. She notes that there is a hood over his messy and wet hair and that means he is wearing something other than just his t-shirt. Relief washes over her as she notes the shock in his own eyes.

It takes a few moments for Clarke to break free from the shock and let go of the stick, letting it fall back on the ground before she jumps on his frozen body, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tight. So tight that for a second she thinks she is going to either break him or her arms.

She breathes him in, feeling every bit of him pressed against her body. But Bellamy doesn’t hug her back and for a moment she believes she is imaging him and she is actually hugging a tree instead.

Backing up, she meets his eyes again and yes, it’s definitely him but still shocked. She opens her mouth to say something but Bellamy gets there first.

“What the hell are you doing out here, Clarke?!” he shouts, grabbing her from her shoulders tight.

“That’s supposed to be my line, Bellamy!” she says back, “What were you thinking when-”

He cuts her off by letting go of her shoulders and grabs on her hand instead, turning her around, leading her through the forest as he lights the way in front of her. “I don’t have time for this right now.” he says angry, “We need to get back.”

Clarke doesn’t fight him on that because she already feels the thin material of Bellamy’s jacket on her shoulders struggling against the rain.

Again, she doesn’t really know how long Bellamy leads them through the forest, his fingers hold her hand tight so as not to lose it.

The can’t run while holding each other so instead of letting go, Bellamy chooses to jog so Clarke can keep up with him. His long strides make it hard to stay at the same pace, but his hand in hers tries to stop her from stumbling. They slip several times anyway, but they hold each up before they get hurt or fall down.

After what felt like an eternity for Clarke, her eyes catch the trapdoor she left open. She feels Bellamy finally letting go of her hand only to see him taking off his backpack. Then he kneels next to the hole and throws his backpack inside. He snaps his head up, looking at Clarke. “Come on!” he waves at her and Clarke throws her own backpack off her shoulders, down to land next to Bellamy’s.

Bellamy nods at Clarks, motioning her to go first and again she chooses not to fight him on that. She turns around and climbs down the ladder, landing again next to their backpacks and pushing them to the side to make space for Bellamy.

Suddenly Bellamy lands in front of Clarke almost throwing her off balance. She slowly lifts her gaze and finds his eyes. She sees more than emotions in them.

* * *

“What the hell were you thinking, Clarke?!” Bellamy shouts, turning his back on Clarke and chucking his flashlight on the table.

“What the hell was I thinking?” Clarke shouts back, watching Bellamy plant his palms on the wooden table after taking off his hood, “What was I thinking, Bellamy?” she asks again a bit quitter, “I don’t know…” she continues, staring at Bellamy’s back, “Apparently the same things you are.”

“Yeah, sure.” he says sarcastic, “Because getting yourself lost would do so much good for our people.”

“Yes, as good as it would do you getting blown up or caught in an _acid rain storm_.” she quips back, as sarcastic as Bellamy.

Bellamy turns his head and glares at her over his shoulder.

“What?” Clarke asks, “Did you even stop to think what how the fuel could react with the rain?”

Bellamy doesn’t say anything and Clarke considers it a win. A moment later he turns to stare at the table again.

“You could have gotten yourself really hurt, Bellamy.” Clarke says softly wanting to reach for him but holding herself instead, cupping her elbows and staring at his back.

“And?” Bellamy only says, voice emotionless with a low tone.

“And?” Clarke asks, anger building inside her again, “ _And?!_ That is all you have to say?” her voice getting loud again. When she doesn’t get any answer from Bellamy, Clarke continues. “You could be bleeding out while I was sleeping here. You could be caught on a root, could have tripped and broken a leg and been stuck as acid burned you to the bone.  And then in the morning I would have found your dead body and would have to live the rest of my life blaming myself for that because I wasn’t there for you.”

There is a tear quietly rolling down Clarke’s cheek that Bellamy will never see, “And Octavia-”

“Octavia doesn’t care about me!” Bellamy suddenly breaks his silence and whips around, now facing Clarke.

They stay like that for a minute or so, heavily breathing from all the jogging they did to get here and all the yelling. Clarke can see all the emotions in Bellamy’s eyes. Fear, worry, sadness, anger. Everything she feels inside is mirrored in his eyes.

Clarke leans her head to the side, letting out a deep breath. “Bellamy…” she whispers his name and reaches to hold his hand. “Octavia might be angry at you now and she might hate you for what happened but she is not the only one in your life anymore,” her voice is soft and caring, “I know Octavia _was_ your life since you were _eight_ but now you have more people to think about.” she continues, and his eyes, the ones that couldn’t face her before, slowly find their way towards her face, “And these people, people like me and Raven and Monty and Miller…” she takes a deep breath, “We care about you. Like it or not. Want it or not. We care about you. We care about you and we can’t stand the thought of losing you. I can’t stand the thought of that. Of losing someone so important to me again.”

Bellamy stares at Clarke, tears glistening in his caramel eyes. He’s trying to hold it together, she can see that. Trying to keep everything inside and only for himself.

But Clarke knows that it will do him no good. She tried that path herself and the only result was more pain and self-hate. She doesn’t want that for Bellamy, she doesn’t want that for any of her friends but especially for Bellamy. She knows what he’s been through his whole life and knows he’s kept going, kept fighting. Losing Octavia like he did tore a large hole in the armor that took him a while to build up, and since then that hole has left him vulnerable. He beats himself up about everything, and won’t stop until he’s on his knees. He won’t stop by himself and he might not admit it out loud, but he needs his friends now more than ever, he needs _her_. And Clarke has promised herself and Bellamy that she won’t leave him. Not now or ever again.

“Bellamy, please, listen to me carefully.” she asks, her voice almost a whisper, “Your life is-” she stops herself when she feels something wrong going on with her hand. Looking down at her hand, she realizes there is something sticky coming between her fingers.

Opening her fingers but not letting go of Bellamy’s hand, Clarke takes out her flashlight with her other hand and light up on the inside of his hand.

And there is was, the inevitable injury. Clarke didn’t think it was that long or deep, but the cut on the jacket is too long for her likings and if the jacket’s cut is that long, she doesn’t want to know if the cut on his hand extended to the artery on his wrist.

“You’re hurt.” she says, maybe a little bit angrier than she intended and quickly let go of him, searching for her backpack on the floor and the med kit inside it.

“It’s nothing.” Bellamy says from behind her and Clarke shakes her head while she keeps searching for her med kit.

“It’s not nothing.” she barks, “Take off your jacket. I have to stop the bleeding and it’ll probably need stitches too.” she orders him, finally finding her med kit between everything else.

“Why didn’t you say anything? How did it happen.” she asks and stands up only to come face to face with Bellamy’s back again.

Anger gets the best of her and suddenly she finds herself throwing her med kit on the couch just behind her and reaching for Bellamy’s jacket’s collar and yanks it towards her chest, forcefully pulling it off Bellamy’s shoulders.

She throws it on the floor, finally getting Bellamy’s attention, who turns around and faces her, “For God’s sake, Clarke!” he shouts, bringing a hand up to hold the inside of his other hurt hand, “What do you want from me?!”

Clarke takes a step forwards and Bellamy takes one back. “I want to see your hand.” she orders.

“Well, I don’t.” Bellamy answers instead.

Clarke lifts her eyebrows, “I don’t care.” she answers and reaches forwards to grab his hand again but Bellamy smacks her hand to the side.

“Leave it alone, Clarke!” Bellamy says, “It’s fine.”

Clarke then stop fighting him, she takes a step back, letting her hands fall on her side and stare at him sad. “Why are you acting so weird, Bellamy?”

He doesn’t waste time to answer, “I’m not acting weird.”

“Yes you are.” Clarke argues, “Since Raven came up with this plan that could save-” she stops herself, hitting the really painful subject of who is going to be saved and who not, “Our people.” she finishes and then takes a deep breath, for a moment looking down on the floor before she meets Bellamy’s eyes again. “And then you risk your life for that plan, you risked your life for a plan we are not even sure it’s going to work and- and now you won’t let me see your bleeding hand- won’t let me help you.”

Bellamy shakes his head because she knows he caught him, “Someone else might need these things back at camp. I don’t need them, I’m fine.”

“That someone will have to use camp’s supplies!” Clarke yells, that was it, he crossed a line right then and Clarke loses her patience, “Right now, you are that someone who needs these supplies!” she continues to yell and surprising both of them, she reaches forwards grabbing his time from his elbow to drag him back to the couch.

But Bellamy starts fighting her, his other hand grabs on her wrist, trying to free his other hand. And for some reason Clarke is so strong that her fingers are not letting go of Bellamy’s arm. And Bellamy keeps fighting her, only winning at the tugging so they stay where they are in the middle of the small room.

“Don’t you get it!” he yells, with his free hand still trying to push Clarke again. Their eyes doesn’t meet and Clarke knows he is crying by the cracks in his voices, “I don’t deserve them! These supplies! To be saved! I don’t deserve anything of what I have!” and that gets most of Clarke attention to finally look up to him, “I’m a monster!” he snaps his hands back and forth, from side to side, trying to find a way to break free but it’s now that Clarke won’t let him go, won’t let him push her away.

“I’ve killed so many people, Clarke! So many!” he continues, “That blood will never be washed from my hands! If there a risk of me dying to save you, then I will do it! I will do it for everyone! Do you know why?! Because I don’t deserve to even be alive! I don’t deserve this life when I’ve taken so many other!” And there he is, finally breaking down after almost a year a bottling his feeling and emotions.

It breaks Clarke’s heart to see him like that. See himself as nothing but someone who needs to die to do something useful. He is not that, he never was and she will never let him be that.

They are staring at each other, Clarke shocked at his words and Bellamy with tears in his red eyes. He starts sobbing and she knows he just let his own words sink into him and it’s too much. Too much for both of them.

Clarke let go of Bellamy’s elbow, making his eyes fall on his now free arm. Then she grabs his face with her two hands, making him look at her, look her in the eyes. Bellamy is crying and she is searching for words, something to comfort him, _anything_. But she finds nothing in her clouded mind so she does what he needs the most.

Her hands let go of his face and go around his neck, pulling his face to her shoulder, hugging his broken pieces all together again, fitting them so that they become one whole piece in her arms again, fissures cracking and seams splitting but held together. Immediately Bellamy starts fighting her again, pushing her away from him by her side and her shirt, anything that he could grab hold on. But Clarke is so strong right now, so strong as she fits him into the dips of her body, and nothing that Bellamy does works. There is no space between their bodies as Clarke shushes him with calm words.

Slowly Bellamy starts to give in. One hand is pushing her away but the other is pulling her to him even more, crushing every bit of air between them. Clarke notices and tightens her grip around him, her hands coming up and stroking his hair calmly, lovingly.

When his whole body stops fighting her it feels like she is the only thing that holds him together and standing. She feels his tears wetting the skin between her neck and shoulder when Bellamy’s face is buried in her hair. And he is holding her so tight, she can feel his hands fisting in her shirt.

“It’s going to fine.” she promises even though it feels as if Bellamy is ignoring everything she says. She keeps going because it’s _Bellamy_ , and he needs to hear these things, “It’s going to be fine, Bell. You’re not a monster, you never were and you never will be. I won’t let them turn you into one. You always did what you had to protects the ones you love.” she tells him, desperately trying to calm him down. “We always did what we had to. And for that, you deserve to be saved.”

“You deserve to be saved.” she whispers it again and again. She whispers it till his weight is too much for her to hold both of them up. She whispers when she slowly backs them to the couch. She whispers it when he falls back with, not daring to let go of each other.

It takes them time to find a position that it’s comfortable for them both. When Bellamy’s sobs starts to slow down, his breathing starting to normalize again, Clarke is lying on her back against the couch’s arm, the rest of her body on the couch except one leg that’s propped against the floor. Bellamy’s tired body is lying on top of her, his chest on her stomach and his head above her heart, both hands tangled in the folds of her shirt. Clarke never stopped whispering comfort words and at some point she one hand leave the nestled warmth of his hair and grabs hold of his hurt arm. He won’t let her stitch him so she has to hold his skin together some way. _This will be enough for now_ , she thinks, ignoring the thought of Bellamy’s blood on her skin.

This is not like her nightmares. This is good because Bellamy’s is not dying, Bellamy is not bleeding out in a field with dead Grounders and Sky People like her dreams. He is right there, in her arms, glued to her body, warming every part of her and he is alive. He may be a little broken and hurt but he is there, with her, alive, and that’s all Clarke needs to go on. To keep fighting and not give up. Keep fighting for their people, for him.

She steals one last glance at him, his face now so calm with sleep, before she can’t hold her head up either. Sleep gets the best of her but before it does she kisses the top of his hair and whispers, “I’m going to save you. I’m going to save you, Bellamy Blake.” and it’s her promise before her eyes shut down and her head rolls to the side.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry not sorry. Let me know what you think and my ask is always open for more prompts! You can find me on [tumblr](http://bellarkestories.tumblr.com/)! Have a good day everyone and thanks for reading!


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